


Hair O' Th' Dog

by mmmdraco



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-10 18:57:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heero has a hangover. Trowa is secretive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hair O' Th' Dog

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the characters, I mean no harm, I have no money... Stuff like that. Yeah.

Heero Yuy awoke one morning with a headache only rivaled by the one he had when he'd attempted to self-destruct. However, at least he'd been unconscious for most of that one! There had been some sort of political function cleverly disguising an event at which to get drunk last night. Heero remember drinking some fruity concoction that Duo sent his way only because it helped to give his brain a nice, warm, fuzzy feeling that didn't mind so much that Vice Foreign Minister Relena Peacecraft wouldn't shut up.

Then, Heero remembered that there had been more than one fruity concoction, and something else as well which provided the same feeling as the fruity thing, only fuzzier. Then, he remembered another of those, and possibly a third, and he clutched his head and tried to get his hands to move his pillow over his eyes so that the cool side was against his forehead. When he finally managed this, there was a knock on the inside of his head. It was really on the door, he reasoned to himself, but it had felt like the knock was too close to have been so far away. Still, he did reply, "Go away!" 

He heard a slight chuckle, and knew, suddenly, that it was Trowa. "I've got something for what ails you."

Pulling the pillow up slightly, Heero called out, "Then come in and let me bow at your feet - but only if it works!"

"That's exactly what I had in mind." Trowa came in, and was careful to open and shut the door as carefully as he could so that the noise wouldn't disturb Heero too much. He turned to Heero and held out his hands. One had a pill in it; the other a glass of water. "Here's what you need." Trowa spoke softly, and Heero was grateful.

Heero took the proffered pill and popped it in his mouth, then took the glass and knocked back a gulp. Almost immediately, he regretted it. The quick, sharp tilt of his neck did not help matters, and the water, quite simply, was not. As soon as Heero managed to swallow, he croaked out, "What the hell is this, Trowa?"

Sitting on one corner of the bed and grabbing the glass out of Heero's hand, Trowa smiled. "It's a bit of the hair o' the dog."

"I drank this piss last night, huh?" Heero sat up slowly and leaned against the headboard of the bed.

Trowa nodded. "Yup. It was four glasses before you took off your clothes, though. Wufei only made it through one and a half before he was butt naked and had the lampshade on his head and one of those $50,000 tapestries draped around him like a cape, claiming that he was king." Trowa smiled. "Needless to say, we all did some pretty wild things last night."

Heero groaned. "Oh, great. What did I do? Kill Relena finally?"

Looking deeply into Heero's eyes, Trowa shook his head slightly. "Nope. I won't tell you what you did. You'll remember. Or you'll die. One of the two."

"Die?" Heero sat straight upright.

Trowa laughed. "I'm not serious, Heero. Really, I know how to tell a joke. I was a clown for a while there, you know."

Heero managed a weak smile; almost a personal best. "Great. Now, if you don't mind, I need to get dressed."

"Such a prude." Trowa went to leave the room, but paused just before shutting the door. "C'mon, Heero... it's not as though it's something I've never seen." He shut the door and Heero stared at it dumbly before realizing that he was feeling miraculously better. One temple still throbbed gently, but it wasn't anything he couldn't ignore.

Heero stood up and began peeling off his clothes. It was mostly what he'd worn the previous night. He'd refused a tuxedo in favor of a sports jacket over jeans and a dress shirt. The shirt was missing a button, and the jacket was nowhere to be seen, but he was otherwise intact. Just as he was about to search around for something to wear, he took a deep breath and realized that he didn't smell like roses, but more like the soil they grow in. Heero grabbed his bathrobe and tossed it on, tying it lightly at his waist, then marched out to the bathroom.

It was still early enough that Duo and Wufei wouldn't have thought of showers, and Quatre had his own. Trowa preferred a short, warm shower followed by a long, cold shower, so Heero wasn't worried about a lack of hot water at all. 

Heero had a specific shower routine that he performed. First, he would start the shower running as hot as it would go. He'd let it go until it started steaming. Then, he would turn it a bit cooler for every piece of clothing he took off and stack it on top of the counter. Finally, he would select the darkest color towel from the cabinet beneath the sink and set it on the closed toilet seat. 

When Heero stepped into the shower's rain this morning, it was like a jolt of lightning hit him. He had flashes of something, but nothing was clear enough for him to understand what was going on. However, he recognized himself. Indeed, he might very well have stripped off all of his clothing the previous evening if the flash was correct. As he thought more about it, the scene became clearer in his head. He was doing a striptease in front of a large mirror, like one used for ballet practice. There was someone he was looking at in the mirror; someone he knew... As Heero reached for his personally labeled loofah and moisturizing shower gel, he remembered. "Trowa was behind me," he whispered to the conditioner bottle on a shelf.

This whole thing was beyond him. Normally, he could hold off on drinking. Even water was usually the preferred option to drinking one's heart out. But, there had been something... His mind was elsewhere, or wanted to be.

And, without warning, it struck. A sensation raced through Heero's veins like hyper-awareness. His heart was racing an invisible enemy, and his brain had lightning bolts connecting the dots. He was remembering.

Heero had long come to terms with the fact that his childhood had not been particularly wonderful, nor peaceful, but most of it had gone by the wayside nonetheless. It was the way the world worked, and he enjoyed the bits that flew by as much as the ones he managed to catch. That was life, and life was good. But, suddenly, he was remembering. His first assassination came back in full force, the red blood painting his mind like it had painted the man's front door. Yet, this red did not run, and did not mix with pouring rain.

Everything came back. Every death, every word, every emotion, and Heero screamed and clawed at the shower walls and his own body and the world and he cried until his eyes burned and the pain was too much and too real, until there was forgiveness as suddenly as there had been the pain. Trowa was there. And Heero had been upset about something... a massacre... and Trowa said he understood and could ease the pain.

Heero, even in this state, only vaguely recalled asking Trowa to take the pain away and give him something else.

Then, the feelings were strong again. The forgiveness was there with a gentleness that eased Heero's mind. Then, pleasure -- intense pleasure. Then, rest. Finality. An end to all, as all may be.

Falling to his knees, Heero cradled his arms to his chest beneath the shower's spray and felt everything rinse away. The blood was washed from his scratches and his tears went down the drain. His pleasure was cleansed and the pain faded with every drop of water. But, the forgiveness stayed like a second skin; clinging for all it was worth. And, to Heero, it was worth a lot.

When the water began to cool, Heero quickly finished cleaning and turned off the shower, grabbing his towel and drying off. He slipped back into his bathrobe and went in search of Trowa.

Ten minutes later, Heero had searched almost everywhere in the house for Trowa. Unless he'd left, there was only one place that he might be. With hope, Heero walked briskly toward his bedroom. He reached it and swung open the door and breathed a deep sigh of relief. Trowa was sitting on the bed. "How did you do that, Trowa?" Heero asked.

Motioning for Heero to come closer, Trowa grabbed Heero around the waist and pulled him close. Heero didn't resist. "I told you. It's hair o' th' dog."

Heero glared briefly. "No, really."

"Post-hypnotic suggestion." Trowa drew Heero closer into his arms. "It's easier to hypnotize people like you when they're drunk, so I went with this route, and I gave you a trigger. I know you like long showers, and the bathroom is soundproofed, so a shower it was." He ran his fingers through Heero's wet hair. "Do you think it helped?"

Heero nodded. "Yeah. I mean, look! I'm even comfortable having you here like this." Then,suddenly, he gasped and blushed. "I guess I still had one thing left to remember. Tell me, Trowa, was I any good?" With a slight nod, Trowa kissed Heero's shoulder gently. Heero blushed. "Okay, thanks. I'm going to get dressed now. Um, feel free to stick around?" He hopped up and ran over to his dresser.

And Trowa smiled to himself as the binding set. Heero was his now. He'd taken the pill and washed it down, and the experience had been set up. Trowa had watched him for so long now... He was his to do with as he wanted. Now, Heero would always come back for more. And, as Trowa watched Heero's bathrobe cascade to the ground, nothing could have made him happier if only because now, even if Heero found out, he wouldn't care.

It is the reintroduction of something that allows the "hair o' th' dog" theory to work. For Heero, it was a reintroduction of pleasure. And pleasure is a very powerful drug, indeed.


End file.
